Between Two Worlds
by La Klap
Summary: An unsuspecting Muggle girl gets warped into the body of a third year Hufflepuff. With only her supposed best friend to trust, she tries to get back. Set during HBP.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** An unsuspecting Muggle girl gets warped into the body of a third year Hufflepuff. With only her supposed best friend to trust, she tries to get back. Set during HBP.

**Disclaimer:** I'm just messing around in J.K. Rowling's world. I wish I owned it all, but I do not.

**Author's Notes:** This little plot bunny was preventing me from continuing _Wayward Son_, so I wrote it down as best as I could. Maybe I'll write more of it, maybe not, that depends on how much people read it. This fanfic will (again) be first person.

_Between Two Worlds – Chapter One_

It was a blustery October day – the fifteenth, to be exact. Gales of wind tugged on the tree leaves and sheets of rain clattered against my bedroom window. A few daring people were still running down the street, some carrying large umbrellas. Those who weren't were covered in plastic from head to toe, hurrying to wherever they were going.

I yawned and closed my math book. Being home schooled was a bore sometimes; I had nobody to gossip or make homework with. I met my friends (who had all gone to the same comprehensive school) in the holidays, so that wasn't very often. Sadly, I had begun feeling a bit left out lately when they were chatting about what was happening at their school; I had no idea of what they got up to when not at home.

"Heather!" My mother's soft voice drifted up the stairs, through my bedroom door. "Dinner, dear, are you done with your homework?"

"Yes, Mum," I called back. "I'll be down in a moment, all right?" I heard the tapping of footsteps and the shutting sound of a door. I got up and carefully placed my book back between the other school texts before padding to below.

My little brother, Kyle, was already sitting at our small dining table. It was set so all four members of my family could sit down with just enough room to avoid legs from bumping. Kyle was taking advantage of being the only one seated – his legs were swinging wildly back and forth, occasionally thumping the bottom of his chair with his heels. I took the spot next to him.

"What's for dinner, Mum?" I asked, ruffling my brother's hair. He huffed and tried to bat my hand away.

"Oh, some soup and chicken," my mother replied, her back turned to me because she was still handling the stove. "Kyle, hold your legs. We'll want to use that chair for a few more years."

Just then, the sound of a key being shoved into a lock reached my ears and mere moments later, my father strode into the kitchen, grinning broadly despite being completely soaked – for some reason, he liked to cycle to his work. Kyle jumped up and ran over to hug him, completely ignoring the remaining raindrops on my father's damp coat. My father returned his hug enthusiastically, slightly raising Kyle from the ground. My mother clacked her tongue.

"Look what you're doing, Harold, now the floor is all wet and muddy! Kyle, honey, let your father go so he can take his shoes off properly." She took two pans from the stove and set them on the table. "Heather, if you'd like to give everybody –"

I nodded and filled the four dishes with soup, slowly so it wouldn't splatter. My brother took the seat next to me again, grabbing his spoon. I warned him not to eat the soup yet because it was still hot, and he replied by pulling a face.

"I _know_ that, Heather. You always say it's hot but it actually never is." He took a spoonful and blew in it so drops of soup flew halfway across the table, then gulped it down.

I scoffed. "I can do that too. That wasn't even a whole spoon, everything just got out when you tried to cool it off."

He stuck his tongue out. "Let's see you do it, then."

"No. I have manners, I wait until Mum and Dad are sitting as well."

As soon as they joined, I started eating my dinner quietly, listening to my parents' friendly bickering and my younger sibling's stories about his football team. Afterwards, I slipped upstairs as the rest of my family crept behind the television. I myself had no need to hear about another gas explosion or murder – they seemed to be occurring a lot lately. Maybe I could get some more homework done instead.

That plan went rather hopeless. My eyelids were drooping, despite the fact it was only eight. The letters on the page were blending, making the text impossible to read. My bed started to look rather inviting. When a headache started coming up, I quickly shut the book. Enough, I could finish it tomorrow. I dressed into my nightgown and crept under the covers.

I drifted off quickly, and then the dreams started. I felt like I was flying through a tunnel, squeezing through a keyhole, shooting up though a chimney. I felt as if I was everywhere and nowhere. At some point, it was like I no longer inhabited my own body. Flashes of my childhood flickered in front of me, though they were fuzzy and therefore I couldn't see them very well.

After a while, memories I could not recall started spinning by. I couldn't remember having done the things that little child in my dream did, anyway. Swinging with a piece of wood; walking down a street packed with strangely dressed people; sitting in a huge hall at a long table. The flashbacks started to sharpen, brighter, I could almost recognise the face –

Then I woke up.

The first thing I noticed was that I was no longer in my own bed. It was too soft, too big, and most importantly; my own bed did not have drapes around it.

I blinked a few times to let my eyes accustom to the dark, then pushed the sheets off me. Another point – my bed did not have this much layers of sheets. I searched for the edge of the curtain and pulled it aside. My breath caught in my throat.

Okay, so my bed wasn't mine, but this also _was not my room_. It was big and rectangular, with three other beds against the same wall as mine. To the opposite wall was a large kind of wardrobe, with next to it a door. The only windows were up against the ceiling, as if the room was some kind of cellar.

I quietly got out of bed, my heart beating wildly. Where was I? It was still a bit dark, so I looked around the room to find the light switch. However, after several paces around the low-ceilinged chamber, I couldn't find it. As a matter of fact, there were no lights either, only candles. When did people start using electricity again? Was I warped back in time? _That's ridiculous, Heather,_ I scolded myself. Such things weren't possible, except in storybooks.

I was now standing in the middle of the room, and looked around. The four beds were split in two pairs by a door that was in the wall. I walked over and slowly opened it.

There was a small landing, then two steps down and then a long corridor going both ways, left and right. I was still wearing my nightdress from home, and I didn't _quite_ feel like exploring in it, so I withdrew myself into the bedroom again. I decided to try the door on the opposite wall.

As soon as I opened that door, chandeliers inside the room on the other side flared up. I muffled a scream and slammed the door shut, my heart thumping in my throat somewhere. What was that? What lit the candles?

"Mmmph."

I whirled around, feeling like I could go into hysterics any moment. Somebody inside the other beds had grunted. Maybe I wasn't the only one in here – wait, maybe we were kidnapped! That was it; someone had taken me from my home and locked me up in here with three other people –

But that didn't make sense – I wasn't locked up, as I had just tried both doors and neither was bolted from the outside. I tried the door with the mysterious candles on the other side again, and for the second time the candles lit up. My legs were quivering, but I stepped in anyway and shut the door.

It was a bathroom. Not a luxurious one, definitely not – I probably had to share it with whoever was in this with me. The floor and walls were both made of something that resembled black marble, with chunks of a yellow mineral intersecting it. There were two showering cabins and two cubicles, both in yellow. Then, to the wall I was steadying myself with, was a basin with a mirror above it. I slowly walked over to face it. When I had, I wished I hadn't. All the blood drained from my face.

My normally so vibrant light brown hair had darkened immensely until the point of black, so vastly it stood out horribly against my pale skin. Somehow, my dark brown eyes had changed to a striking blue colour – they were now fearfully staring back at me. And to top that – it just wasn't my face anymore. My upturned nose was suddenly straight, my lips had thinned, and my eyebrows were thicker. _What happened?_ I pulled a strand of hair to the front so I could see it with my own – blue – eyes. No, it wasn't a trick of the mirror – it _was_ very dark now.

I stretched my arm out to my reflection, dropping the string of blackish brown. My fingers met the girl's on the smooth surface. That just wasn't me, no matter how I looked at it. It _couldn't_ be me. My hand started to tremble, and before I knew it, I was down on the floor, crying my eyes out. I wanted to go home, to my own bed, my own room, and my own body.

I no longer had any idea of what was happening, or what had happened. It couldn't have been kidnapping; any captor could have taken me from my home, but they could not have put me in a different body. Nobody could have done that. My new dark hair flopped down to my shoulders, a few wisps of it tickling my face.

I sniffled a little, and with one last shudder, picked myself up from the floor. No point in sitting there. Maybe if I went back to bed, everything would turn out fine. I wobbled to the door, went through, and softly shut it. The candles went out immediately, leaving me in the darkness yet again.

I found my way back to bed and rolled into a ball under the blankets, shivering despite the warmth. Somebody had put a hot-water bottle between the sheets.

Tossing and turning, I managed to get a little sleep between a few more silent tears. But after what seemed a number of hours, an alarm clock went off, followed by several groans and a loud slam. Apparently somebody had smacked it good.

Instead of the gasps of horror I had been expecting from my fellow roommates, I heard shuffling and talking and the general bustle of morning activity. Had they been here longer, maybe? Was this perhaps some kind of orphanage? Maybe my house had caught fire and I had been the sole survivor and my parents and Kyle had died while trying to rescue me and –

Before I could come up with any other explanations, somebody threw my drapes aside. I winced against the early morning light streaming in through the high windows.

"El! Get out of bed already – it is Saturday, remember? We have a Hogsmeade weekend! Come on, this is going to be great!"

I rubbed my eyes, not entirely believing my ears. _Hogsmeade?_ What on _earth_ was Hogsmeade? It sounded like some revolting ritual with pigs involved. Not to mention this girl was behaving like she _knew_ me. Which couldn't be, because I had only arrived here last night.

I sighed and heaved myself out of bed. Now that it was morning, I could see the colours of my bed matched the ones in the bathroom – yellow and black. The other beds had those colours as well. The floor was some light wood, and the walls had the same shade, only they were made of brick.

I nervously turned my attention to the girl who had woken me. She was grinning broadly at me, her bright brown eyes sparkling with joy. I attempted a feeble smile, feeling all the more confused. The girl cocked her head, her beam fading somewhat.

"What's up, El? You look a bit peaky – bad dream?"

"You _can't_ be sick, Eleanor!" A girl with jet-black hair yelled across the room. "This is our first Hogsmeade weekend _ever_! Who knows when the next one is?"

My mind spun. _Eleanor?_ What in the world – was I maybe dreaming? And again that stupid Hogsmeade – what was that? Who were these girls, babbling about and including me like they had known me for years?

Something clicked in my mind – I was in someone else's body, so they probably thought I was that someone. Eleanor was her name, from what I had heard so far. Did that mean she was in _my_ body right now? Oh, please God, no – what if she liked it better in my body and didn't want to go back?

A hand waved in front of my face and I was abruptly snapped back into reality again. The owner of the hand, the brown-eyed girl, sent me an inquiring look.

"Eleanor? Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes," I muttered, standing up. How was I going to explain to them that I wasn't who they thought I was? Where was I anyway? I still didn't know.

The girl that had woken me was still staring at me. I did a great effort to smile a bit wider at her, while I was inwardly wishing she would let me be. She seemed to get it, and walked over to the trunk standing at the end of her bed, which was next to mine. She took out some black cloth – though… Good Lord, those were _robes_. How old was she – seven? That was the age I stopped dressing up, and that was six years ago. I warily scuffled towards the trunk at the end of my own bed. _Eleanor Branstone_, it said in black letters on top. I gulped and swung it open, feeling like I was invading the poor girl's privacy.

The content of the trunk was very orderly; a stack of textbooks was neatly put in a corner, some yellow paper next to it. I picked it up. The handwriting on it looked oddly like mine. I flattened the paper a bit, so I could read what the girl had written.

The dragon is the most famous mythical animal. The female is larger than the male, but both may only be approached by special trained wizards. Their heart, blood, hair, etc. is used a lot in strong potions. There are ten different species…

I dropped the golden coloured paper into the trunk again, stunned. _Dragons?_ What was this girl, insane? They didn't exist, of course, only in fairytales. Right?

My hands quivering, I moved them towards the black heaps in the other corner of the trunk. Robes. The same ones as the girl next to me, they were. To their side were a few uniforms that I supposed were to be worn under them. I glanced at my roommates. They were already dressed in black, chattering away as they ran across the room. One of them wrapped a strand of hair around a piece of wood. I smirked inwardly, despite everything. That girl would never get curls – her hair was too long and too straight. Well, I didn't have room to talk – I felt my own straight hair tickling in my neck.

But to my astonishment, when the girl removed the wood, her dirty blond hair was suddenly falling down in loose tresses. How did she _do_ that? Just as I opened my mouth to ask, she turned to me, grinning.

"Are you – oh, El, get dressed already! Are you sure you're okay? You _are_ looking a bit pale, you know."

"Yes, I'm fine" I said, hastily taking a uniform and some robes and ducking to the other side of my bed, out of their sight. All right – how did one wear these things?

After fifteen minutes of wrestling with the robes, I finally had them on. I looked down to see a yellow-and-black (what was with those colours?) patch on my chest, with a badger on it. Right. I hoped the others had one too. I anxiously looked at the nightstand next to my bed. There was a brush, some other piece of yellow paper, and – a branch of wood, like that other girl had. I picked it up, and unexpectedly a few golden sparks flew out. I yelped and dropped it.

There was a commotion in the room and in three seconds, the three other girls were standing at my bedside.

"What happened?"

"Oh, are you _really_ fine, El?"

"Why is your wand on the ground?"

Wand. _Wand?_ That wooden stick was a freaking _wand_? Where was I? Some institute for mental people and stupid idiots? Or was this just some prank to see how I would react? That thing was probably just a sparkler. _Please, let it be just a sparkler._

The girl with the brown eyes shushed the other two away and bent down to put an arm around me. I had been completely unaware of the fact I had sunk to the ground until then. My bottom lip started trembling and I was sobbing yet again, but this time there was someone that was making soothing sounds and rubbing my back, even though I didn't know who she was. I heard a door open and shut and knew the two other girls had gone.

After I had calmed down, the girl holding me fixed her eyes on me for a good long time, then sighed.

"What is it with you, El? You normally aren't like this – usually you rise early, you are the first to be dressed, you are never sick, and _you_ were the one most excited about Hogsmeade, until this morning. Are you nervous?"

I sniffed and dropped my gaze. I couldn't explain – or could I? I had to trust somebody – I _needed_ to trust somebody – or I'd go insane with madness. If this were some kind of booby hatch, I'd fit right in if this went on with all those unpleasant surprises. I thought of the suddenly lit candles, the girl with the curly hair and the sparkles coming from that supposed wand. I took a deep breath and looked up at the girl again.

"I am not Eleanor Branstone. My name is Heather Winter. I would like to know how I got here, what I am doing here, what this place is and who you are."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I'm playing in J.K. Rowling's sandbox. She is kind enough to share her toys with me. No, they're not mine. I'll give them back when I'm done.

**Author's Notes:** Thank you for the review, vhChick! It motivated me to complete the second chapter, which was only half done. I do appreciate reviews, like any writer. :) Read on.

_

* * *

Between Two Worlds – Chapter Two_

I took a deep breath and looked up at the girl again.

"I am not Eleanor Branstone. My name is Heather Winter. I would like to know how I got here, what I am doing here, what this place is and who you are."

She knitted her eyebrows together, her brown eyes looking confused as I felt my heart sink. Of course. She didn't believe me. Why _would_ she, anyway? If somebody told me he wasn't who I thought he was, I'd laugh my head off. I hesitated a little before opening my mouth again, but the girl immediately cut me off.

"Are you sure?"

It was all I could do to prevent myself from sighing exasperated. Yes, I was sure. What did she think, that I was mad? Or dangerous?

She struggled to her feet again and hastily pulled out a thin wooden stick, like they apparently all had around here. She pointed it right at me. Her hand was shaking and her facial expression was contorted in fear. Was she _afraid_ of me? A little thirteen year old who was unarmed?

"Who are you? Tell me!" She jabbed the stick at me, nearly poking my eye out. I nervously leant back.

"I –I told you, my name is Heather. Just – just that. Heather Winter. Stop waving that – that thing at me, you might stab me in the face."

The girl shook her head, her posture stiff. "Right. Are you under the Imperius curse? Or – or are you a Death Eater on Polyjuice Potion? I – I'm not stupid, you know? Just because I'm thirteen and underage doesn't mean I'm stupid!"

Imp – what? Polyjuice Potion? What _were_ those things? Death Eater sounded like some kind of thing that sucked your nightmares out. Or some idiot eating bodies. God, I wanted to go home as fast as possible. I wanted to go back to Kyle and tell him off for spilling soup. I wanted to –

"Answer me!" The girl was trembling, obviously trying very hard to be brave. "If you aren't my friend, say who you are and what you are _doing_ here! Where is Eleanor? You're a Death Eater, aren't you?" She held the dark stick with both hands to steady it, her knuckles white.

I vigorously shook my head. "No, I don't even know what a Death Eater is! You've got to believe me – and I already told you my name, and for why I am here, I don't have a clue either." I felt tears spilling over my cheeks again. "_Believe_ me, please. I have no clue of where I am. I – I just woke up in here after I went to sleep in my own bed."

She lowered the stick slightly, but still eyed me apprehensively. "The Ministry told us not to trust anybody who acts oddly. You act odd. You're babbling nonsense."

_The_ Ministry? What Ministry was she talking about? She had to understand me – she _had_ to understand me, now that she knew I wasn't this supposed Eleanor. An ungraceful sob left my lips. I _hated_ this. Wasn't there anyone I knew in this with me?

I heard a sigh, and the girl sat down, folding her legs under her. She observed me curiously for a while, cocking her head slightly. I met her eyes, trying to pass my urgency for information in my gaze.

"Where am I?"

"You mean this castle?"

"This," I gestured around the room and at the high windows, "is a castle?"

"Yes. Hogwarts castle."

Again that 'Hog'. What was with that? "And what is that – that Hogsmith you were talking about? All this stuff makes me think of farm animals."

The girl laughed a little bit. "It's Hogsmeade. It's a village nearby – only third years and up are allowed to visit it at certain times, and today is the first time for – for us. And Hogwarts is a kind of flower, if I remember correctly."

"It doesn't look like a castle."

"That's because we're in the basements, near the kitchen. That's where the Hufflepuff common room and the dormitories are located."

"Huff – sorry?" I had the feeling I had a lot to learn in here, with all the new words popping up every few sentences.

The girl groaned. "I think this is going to take awhile. Let's start with introductions. I'm Laura Madley." She put out her hand. I gratefully took it.

"You know my name. Why is it going to take so long?"

Laura sighed, twisting her fingers in her lap. "It's – well, you don't even know Hogwarts, so it's all going to be terribly confusing for you from now on, I'm afraid. You see, this is a school for magical people."

I gasped. "A school for _what_?" I had heard her perfectly well, though. Magic. That was what everything was about. The candles. The hair. The stick – no, the wand. I tried to wrap my mind around it. Magic. Real magic. That was _impossible_. How could it be? It didn't exist.

"It's a school where we learn magic," Laura said, clasping her hands together. "I – Merlin, I don't know where I should begin." Her laugh was forced and unreal. "The school was founded by four people – Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin. Got that?"

I nodded and signalled for her to go on. She took a deep breath.

"Well, the school has four Houses each named after one of them. We are in Hufflepuff's House. We just call it Hufflepuff."

Four Houses, and we are in Hufflepuff. It sounded rather interesting to my ears. I glanced at the other two beds in the room. "Who are the other girls?"

"The one with the black hair is Emma Dobbs. The other one, with the long blond hair, is Nina Davies. Nina's a halfblood, Emma's Muggleborn."

"Excuse me?" I had lost count of how many times I had heard words I had never encountered before. It was starting to confuse me. How was I supposed to remember all this? I had to keep it all in mind if I wanted to act normal around everyone else – I needed to look like this girl I was supposed to be.

Laura blushed. "Eh – oh, blimey – in the wizarding world, there are certain… _prejudices_. There are people who have only wizards – well, almost only wizards – as ancestors. There are also people who are born out of Muggle families – Muggles are people who can't do magic," she added, spotting my lost expression. "I think you were one before you somehow got in here, and in Eleanor's body."

I drew a shuddering breath, willing myself to stay calm. Calm, yes. Stay calm, Heather, you are going to get out of this mess. "Okay, so I was a – Muggle, you say? What was Eleanor?"

"She was Muggleborn. That's good, because you won't have to worry about acting magical around her parents." Laura's face fell. "I hate talking about her in the past tense. It's like she's dead."

"Sorry," I mumbled. Another question sprung to mind. "So, are people with pure blood better at magic than the – than the Muggle ones?"

"No!" Laura shook her head, her eyes wide. "You didn't let me finish – a lot of purebloods think they are better because they are, you know, _pure_; but they aren't better than the ones that don't have generations of wizards behind them, of course not." She uncertainly looked around. "I think we need to go to breakfast. The others will wonder where we've gone."

I nodded, and Laura carefully helped me to my feet. She then picked up the wand I had dropped earlier from the ground and gave it to me.

"Here. You need to – you need to be armed. We – that is, the wizarding world – we're in war. No, I'll explain later," she said, waving my new batch of questions off. "Just stick close to me – I'm sorry, but it's a long story."

A war? Great… I was in a world that used magic, with people I didn't know. There was apparently a lot of discrimination going on about blood instead of skin tone. They were also in a war of some kind, and I didn't have the right to ask questions?

Laura led me out of the room and went left. I still felt quite ridiculous in my robes. I couldn't shake off the feeling I was standing out and that the rest of the world would stand to the side and laugh.

I suddenly realised something, and I violently tugged Laura back by the sleeve of her robes. She turned around. "What?"

"Did you say this was a _school_?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes. Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"And… and you, you know, learn magic?"

"Yes, of course," Laura said, confusion now evident on her face.

"But," I said, my throat dry, "Laura, I don't know any magic! How am I supposed to do in _classes_? I've never learned anything!"

"Oh, damn – well, it's Saturday, we will worry about that later," Laura reassured me, though she looked very harried herself with the prospect of lessons. "Come, the common room is this way."

I followed her into a large room, full of lumpy chairs and beautiful tapestries. The walls and floor were, again, in yellow and black – it made me think of bumblebees. Sunlight filtered through the high windows and fell on a great stone badger next to an equally huge fireplace. A few other people were hanging around, sitting at a small round table to the right playing some kind of card game.

"Stop looking like you're talking to the Boy Who Lived himself," Laura hissed ear. "You're supposed to look like you have lived here for more than two years, remember?"

Before I could compose myself, or even wonder about who this 'Boy Who Lived' was, something exploded on the table to our right, making me jump in surprise. When the little cloud of smoke disappeared, I was able to see a blond boy with an upturned nose and scorched eyebrows. He scowled as his friends roared with laughter. I managed to suppress a giggle myself; the boy looked incredibly stupid now.

I leaned towards Laura. "What was that?"

"Exploding Snap," she muttered back. "I'll learn you sometime, if you want." Then she made way to the other side of the room. I quickly followed in her wake.

We reached a ladder going upwards; it appeared to stop at some kind of trapdoor. Laura grabbed a rung and started climbing. I awkwardly went after her; I didn't like ladders, since they were so wobbly and sometimes hurt my feet.

Laura pushed the trapdoor open and hitched herself out. After assisting me clambering up as well, she slammed it shut, making a few dust bunnies fly away. There was an old-fashioned ring on the trapdoor, which we probably had to pull if we wanted to get back in. However, Laura snatched my wrist and started pulling me through the long corridor ahead.

We had turned several corners and ascended a few stairs before I heard a distant mumbling and clattering. Laura halted rather abruptly, but since she was still gripping my wrist tightly, I didn't bump into her.

"What?" I asked, looking around. The hallway we were in now was full of paintings made of fruit – not anything different than the past few corridors had been. In fact, they made me quite hungry; I hadn't eaten anything since – my stomach lurched – the soup at home.

"Well," Laura said, turning to face me, "don't go acting all flabbergasted when we enter the Great Hall, all right? It's – it's kind of grand." She laughed. "Oh, what am I saying – it _is _grand. Keep close to me."

It was nerve-wracking to imagine the Great Hall, as Laura called it. I kept thinking of sophisticated meals and glittering minerals. If this really were a castle… it wouldn't be wrong to think that they might serve far better food then at home, right?

Laura had let go of me and I had to move a bit faster to keep up with her; this body was a little shorter than the one at home. It felt strange thinking like that about my body – bodies? Like they were exchangeable.

I was led up one last set of stairs and then I felt my mouth drop open on its own accord.

The chamber we had just entered was _huge_. Two of my house could almost certainly have fitted in it; I could barely see the ceiling as I craned my neck to look up. Flaming torches lit the grey stone walls, in front of me was a big, oak door, and to the left of the spot I was standing was an impressive marble staircase. I walked over so I was in front of it. It was amazing.

Laura tugged my sleeve and gestured towards a set of double doors I had somehow missed. Wordlessly, I trailed behind her as she opened them.

If the previous room had been magnificent, I didn't have words to describe the Great Hall. Four long tables stretched out to the left, all of them occupied with people, who were all wearing black robes. At the end was another table with a large chair in the middle, though nobody was sitting in it. As I looked up, I held my breath; the ceiling was gone. I could see the same clear blue sky as could be seen out of the windows. Remembering Laura's warning about the Great Hall, though, I tried to keep a straight face and look as if seeing rooms without ceilings was an everyday occurrence for me. I saw a free spot at the closest table and almost walked over before Laura jerked me back.

"Idiot, that's the Slytherin table!" she whispered. "I told you to follow me!" She turned and strode over to the back of the Hall, taking the third table. I scuffled after her, feeling my face burn. This House system was pretty new to me.

It appeared that Laura had found her – _our_, I reminded myself – roommates and was now eating a well-sized plate of porridge. I slipped into the seat next to her, amazed with the cutlery. It was all gold – even the goblets! I picked my own up curiously, to see if it was real, but Laura kicked me under the table and I quickly set it back again. The others didn't seem to have noticed; they were immersed in a conversation. I pricked up my ears; maybe I could catch some more information about this world. I nervously reached for some fried eggs as I listened in to what the black-haired girl – Emma, I believed her name was – was saying.

"Really, don't you think it'll be great? Let's go to the Shrieking Shack as well – a sixth year told me it's haunted and full of ghosts."

The girl who had used her wand to curl her hair shook her head. "I don't know – it's awfully cold outside. I want to see the best and then we will see if we stay or not."

"How can you be so… so… _not_ excited?" Emma exclaimed, her blue eyes sparkling.

"Calm, you mean?" I suddenly interjected, surprising myself. As long as I kept clear of magical subject, I thought, I could join the banter, right? After all, I had liked to talk a lot at home with my friends – even thought they hadn't always been there.

Emma nodded, grinning. "Yes, that's what I meant!" She took a bite from her sausage, the ketchup dripping off. "I mean, I know you've visited _before_, Nina, but for El and I –" she quickly winked at me, "it's the first time. So be happy for us." She crammed the rest of the sausage in her mouth and smirked at the blond girl, Nina, who shrugged.

"Sorry. I _am_ happy for you, but it's just hard to be so enthusiastic as you are if you've already seen the whole place. Though I do want to go to the Three Broomsticks –" she stopped as I choked on my eggs.

Laura giggled and smacked me on the back several times before filling my goblet with an orange liquid. "Here, have some pumpkin juice." She was smiling, but the message in her gaze was obvious: behave normal.

I gulped down the pumpkin juice (which I had never had before, but was unexpectedly delicious) and finished my breakfast, before allowing my thoughts to roam through my head again.

Broomsticks. They had mentioned broomsticks – in such a casual way I was certain it was very normal. Somehow I doubted that they used brooms for sweeping the floor here: the image of an evil witch cackling loudly while riding a broom swam in front of my eyes. I sighed softly so the other girls couldn't hear.

After breakfast, the plates suddenly cleared themselves (earning myself another kick from Laura as my eyes went wide with shock) and the four of us left the Great Hall, which seemed smaller now a good amount of students filled it. Emma was bouncing up and down with energy as we stormed to below after her to collect our scarves and gloves.

When we reached the trapdoor, I assumed Emma would just pull it up, but she paused and turned to us.

"What is the password again?"

"Oh, Emma," Laura said, rolling her eyes. "It's _honeybees_."

"Right," Emma said, and turned to the trapdoor again. "Er – _honeybees_!"

The trapdoor creaked and to my astonishment, it opened on its own, slowly until we could all easily enter the common room below. Laura grinned and winked at me. I just shook my head, wondering what else was waiting for me here.

I had a bit of trouble finding my winter clothes – or Eleanor's, if I was going to be fair – in the trunk behind my bed, but Laura helped me find them and we whirled upstairs again.

Nina inquired if I was all right as we stood in line to leave the castle. I just nodded; I didn't feel like telling my story again where anybody could hear us. I even managed a genuine smile and thanked her for her concern, which seemed to satisfy her.

We finally got through; it seemed that the line was held up because of security measures. Laura sent me a look that clearly said that this was because of the war, and I silently took several stabs with an unpleasant looking instrument held by a similarly unpleasantly looking man. Sadist, I thought, as he gleefully poked me in the ribs with it.

We had to hold our scarves in front of our faces as me walked to the village ahead; the wind was like a knife cutting my face. A few people turned back halfway through, apparently not wanted to waste their time with only their eyes exposed. I thought it was rather funny looking, all those people with scarves held to their mouth – though I didn't really blame them. I couldn't feel my own cheeks.

Nina pulled us towards a building – the Three Broomsticks. We tumbled inside, eager to get into the warmth and out of the cold. Never mind it was horribly crowded and I was practically breathing in somebody else's breath; it was warm.

"Anyone fancy a Butterbeer?" Laura asked, squeezing my hand a little as to reassure me. I squeezed back. I had the feeling not much could surprise me anymore. Even when an old man in a painting on the wall waved at me, I only felt a slight jolt in my stomach, but I didn't jump.

Laura returned with four bottles. Since all the tables were occupied, we were glad to find a corner to sit down and drink our Butterbeers. It was very nice – I started feeling my cheeks again at the first nip. Nina launched into a story about her first visit to Hogsmeade and I was a little shocked to realise I was enjoying myself, giggling along with the others. It felt better than wallowing in self-pity – that was for sure.

After we finished our drinks, we visited the sweetshop, named Honeydukes. I failed to restrain a grin as I entered; the scent hanging around was heavenly. The shop – and with that, I meant it's contents – was amazing. Everything in this world was amazing, actually. I could see every single kind of candy I could think of, and more. I talked Laura into buying two large bars of chocolate for me, as I didn't have any money with me. She paid with large, round slabs of gold, called Galleons, and smaller pieces of silver, Sickles. Emma had a few little bronze coins, which she called Knuts.

"Wizarding money," Laura whispered in my ear as she stuffed her moneybag in her pocket again. "You're starting to get better at hiding your surprise, by the way."

I was still grinning. "Thank you."

We went to a few other places, despite the terrible cold. The post office, where I gave a little squeak at the sight of so many owls (though it was drowned out by Emma's yell of wonder), the Shrieking Shack, which I didn't find very interesting as it was just a boarded up house, and a little shop which sold feathers were the places we visited before we turned to the castle.

Emma wanted to eat all the sweets she had bought immediately ("As if you haven't got enough sugar in your system," Laura had said) and so we descended to the common room and placed ourselves in front of the fire. I got introduced with all new kinds of sweets, and even though the others already knew about them, I managed to discover what everything was. My first Chocolate Frog escaped the box, however, giving Emma an excuse to bounce around the room before bringing it back to me.

When all the sweets were gone, nobody felt like going to lunch and dinner, so Laura convinced Nina to show me her new hair spells. I clumsily wrapped a strand of hair around my wand – well, Eleanor's wand – and mumbled something what sounded like random gibberish. My first attempts gave no results, so Nina did my hair for me, the others giggling.

When Nina was finished, Laura yelled across the room at an older student: "Hey Ivy, can you conjure a mirror for us?"

Ivy, a tall girl with thick dark hair, turned around, her eyes searching the room for who had called her name. Laura waved to grab her attention and she came over. "Yes?"

"I want you to conjure a mirror for us," Laura declared. I supposed they were sisters; Ivy had the same hair as Laura did and I would never talk so disrespectfully to an older student if they weren't family.

Ivy rolled her eyes, but did what was asked; she swept one time with her wand and swiftly held up a mirror, though when Laura tried to snatch it, she held it above her head. "Say please, little Laurie."

I felt a slight twinge inside at the mocking nickname, though I hadn't bat an eyelash when the mirror suddenly appeared. How often had I called Kyle 'Kylie'? And how often had he called me, in all his originality, Feather Heather? Did Eleanor have siblings here? And if she had, could I tease them like I was their real sister? I didn't know if I could do it.

"Ellie, look!"

My head jerked up and I felt my fresh curls bounce. Nina was holding up the conjured mirror, smiling widely. I looked in it and winced inwardly.

Would I ever accustom myself to this new look? I looked so sulky, despite the playful curls dancing beside my face. I attempted a smile. Ah, better. I felt my hair. It was glossy and smooth – I actually wanted to learn those spells.

"What do you think?" Emma asked, throwing her arm around me and pressing her cheek against mine, grinning broadly. "You look fabulous."

I hesitated, but told myself to get over it and hugged her. "Yes, I do. Thank you, Nina," I told the other girl, who smiled and held out her hand.

"Come on – let's go to the dormitory."

It was only later that night, when I had changed into one of Eleanor's nightgowns and crept under the covers again, that I thought of my family. Was I perhaps gone missing – just disappeared? Or maybe my soul had left my body to come here, and now my family thought I was dead? Then how did that happen? Or was Eleanor in my body? Did she want back?

I pushed all the questions to the back of my mind. No, I wouldn't think about them now – I had more time the next day. Maybe this was all just a dream – maybe I'd be back in my own body by tomorrow. With that thought, I planned to fall asleep, only to realise one important question had been left unanswered.

What was going on in this war?


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** If the Harry Potter world were mine, I would have made Voldemort a porn star and Lucius Malfoy his faithful sidekick. I would also have shipped Ginny and Draco and killed off Harry. So be glad I don't own any of this. 

**Author's Notes:** Yes, I've got Internet access again! I had to write my fanfiction with pen and paper… my hand hurts. Thank you all for the reviews – they are greatly appreciated! I'd like it if you kept giving feedback. :) See you at the bottom!

_Between Two Worlds – Chapter Three_

The room I was in looked a lot like the kitchen at home. There was a small table with four chairs – two on each side – just enough space in front of the stove for Mum to be able to cook without hitting anything, and Kyle was sitting at the table, swinging his legs. I was about to sigh happily and sit next to him, when my eye caught the kitchen window.

Instead of the long, boring street I lived in, there was a large mass of water, and behind it a humungous castle, its towers proudly sticking up into the sky. Surprised, I walked over. It looked like that castle, Hogwarts, were I was the other day. What was it doing here? I turned to Kyle.

"Do you see the castle?"

He scowled. "It's always been there, Heather. Of course I've seen it."

That moment my mother came bustling in, a cheerful smile on her face. "Hello dears! Oh, Heather, darling, help me with these groceries? I bought so much for Kyle's birthday I'd be surprised if it would all be eaten!"

I held out my arms to relieve my mother from her many bags when Emma suddenly came bouncing into the room. "Let me do it, Ma'am, Eleanor is so frail and she's been sick a lot lately… Here we go." She heaved everything out of Mum's arms and dumped it on the table. Kyle kept looking ahead, seemingly not bothered by the pile of groceries blocking his sight. His heels thumped against the bottom of his chair.

Confused, I looked at Emma. "What are you doing here?"

She laughed. "Don't be silly, El, you invited me to come back home with you! Look, you live in Hogsmeade now!" She pointed out of the window, where the view had changed from Hogwarts and its lake to the sweet shop. Emma giggled and shoved me. "Move over, I wanna see too."

Then I heard stumbling in the hallway and a split second later Laura burst in, her wand in her hand and her expression wild.

"War, war!" she yelled, waving her wand frantically. All the pans shot from their shelves and clattered onto the ground. "You have to hide, Eleanor!" she screamed. "There's a war, you're in danger! You have to help me!" The rest of her speech was cut off by the sound of firearms rattling outside.

Next to me, Emma started crying. I wildly turned around. Kyle was still staring ahead, and my mother was smiling serenely. They looked hypnotised, with those blank, unseeing eyes. Panicked, I fell down and hit my elbow on the table.

"Eleanor! Heather! Whatever I have to call you!"

I shot up in my bed, drenched in sweat. My bedclothes were damp and a few strands of my dark hair were plastered onto my forehead. I quickly wiped a few sweat drops from my face and turned to Laura, who had woken me.

"Hi," I panted, trying to banish the dream from my head. I also felt slightly disappointed – the night before I had kind of hoped to wake up in my own bed again.

"Good morning," Laura said gently. "Bad dream?"

"Quite," I muttered. I tried to fall into the cushions again, but hit my head on something hard. I turned onto my stomach to see what it was. Ah. A book. I frowned at the title. "_The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_? You want me to read that?"

"The story about the war is a bit too long to tell," Laura said, sitting next to me. I noticed she was already dressed. "Just read the book, and if you have questions, I'm here." She pulled out a large book from the book bag she had with her and started to study it. When she noticed my questionable look, she smiled and said: "It's Transfiguration – turning solid objects into something else."

I blinked, sighed and opened the thick book on my pillow, deciding to worry about the subjects I would have another time.

The next two hours were spent in silence, which was only broken sometimes by the rustling of pages. The more I read, the more astonished I was becoming. When I had finished it, I shut it with a thud and voiced my thoughts.

"So a one-year-old defeated the Darkest wizard of the century, who had murdered hundreds of people? A baby did that?"

"Yes."

"And then this so-called You-Know-Who came back about a year ago?"

"Yes."

"Why won't they say his name in the book? Because I don't know who."

"Well…" Laura sighed and absently turned a page of her own book. "You see, people think that if you say his name, he'll pop up. We're afraid that if anyone says his name, he'll be summoned. We are afraid of him, of course. He was incredibly powerful in the days."

"And Harry Potter is here at school with us?"

"Yes. Emma fancies him."

I paused and looked down at the picture of a handsome boy with messy black hair and glasses. The caption above it said _Harry Potter, Present_. Next to it was a picture of a baby, grinning toothily into the camera. The title was _Harry Potter, 1981_. Both pictures moved, however slightly. I tapped on the picture of the baby with my fingers.

"Is he also in Humble – Hopper – in Hufflepuff?"

Laura giggled. "No, he's in Gryffindor. That's the House for brave people."

Surprised, I put the book away. There were actual differences in these Houses? "What do you mean, for brave people? How do they determine who is brave and who isn't? Do you get to choose your House? Or –" I frowned deeply, trying to find another explanation, "do you automatically become brave after you've been put in Gryff – Gruff – thing?"

Again, Laura giggled, apparently amused by my inability to remember and pronounce the House names. "No. At the beginning of each year, the first years are Sorted into their House by the Sorting Hat. It's a hat that can think for itself. It has been said that it was once the hat of Godric Gryffindor –"

"Ah!" I said, triumphant that I had managed to remember something. "He was one of the school's Founders!"

"Yeah, yeah," Laura said, grinning. "Anyway, the first years put it on their heads and it looks into their brains, to see which traits they have that fits what House the best."

"What does Hufferpuff have?" I asked.

"It's _Hufflepuff_!" Laura exclaimed, laughing. "Oh, really… Well, Hufflepuff is for the loyal and hardworking students. We're also people… people. We are pretty sociable. I guess you already found that out."

I nodded, wondering briefly if that description fit me. However, Laura continued summing up the House traits and I turned my attention to her again.

"Gryffindor is for the bold and the brave, so I say Harry Potter fits in there pretty well, considering he is fighting with Dark all the time. Then Ravenclaw is for smart people – they are the ones with the highest marks. And we have Slytherin, where the cunning and ambitious people breed." She pulled a face. "Many evil people were in Slytherin, it's the worst House. I'd _never_ want to be in there."

I shrugged. "Ambition is a good personality trait."

"But being evil isn't," Laura said determined, sticking her nose in the air as if daring me to contradict her. "You just wait until you encounter a few of them – they're the worst kind of people you'll ever meet. Eleanor was – _is_ Muggleborn, so you'll be getting a lot of dirty comments your way. Trust me, they're horrible."

"All right, all right," I mumbled, slipping out of bed. "Can I get a shower?"

"Yes, of course," Laura said, jumping off the bed as well and walking over to the closet beside the bathroom door. She pulled out a fluffy yellow towel and handed it to me. "There you go. The water will be just the right temperature so don't worry about that. I'll wait for you here and then we will go down for lunch – you slept right through breakfast."

After I had cleaned myself – the water had indeed been exactly right – we walked upwards to the Great Hall. I shivered a little in the cold corridors, trying to press the robes closer to my body. "Where in Britain are we, anyway?" I whispered into Laura's ear as we passed a group of students with the same patch on their robes as we had.

"Scotland," Laura muttered back. Aha, I thought. That would explain the cold. It didn't quite explain how I had gotten from my little house in Londen to a large castle in Scotland, however.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened at breakfast, except for a silvery figure suddenly sitting exactly opposite of me, causing me to have a slight panic attack and spitting pumpkin juice right through it. The ghost – which appeared to be a friar – took it fairly well, jovially saying he tended to scare people out of their skins every once and a while. He set off chuckling, as opposed to the older girl who had also gotten my pumpkin juice on her robes. She shot me a filthy look as she took out her wand and just as suddenly made the drops of moisture disappear.

Laura took me outside after breakfast. She pointed out a giant squid in the lake, which, very originally, was called the Giant Squid. She showed me the supposed Whomping Willow, which beat anyone who came near it. She pointed at a Professor who was lumbering around the ground just like we were, a huge man named Hagrid. He returned Laura's cheerful hello before sauntering into the dark and thick forest at the edge of the school grounds, a great dog running after him.

"He teaches Care of Magical Creatures," Laura said to me as the darkness of the forest swallowed him. "He's really very nice, but his lessons are horrible. He likes monsters, he thinks they're something like puppies."

I shuddered. "What monsters might that be?"

"You don't want to know," Laura muttered. "You don't have the subject anyway… Eleanor chose Muggle Studies and Divination as new subjects this year."

"And what would that be?" I asked as we strolled back towards the castle.

"Muggle Studies is the study of non-magical people," Laura answered, throwing me a meaningful glance. "You shouldn't have any trouble with it, as you technically are one yourself."

"What do they study? I mean, what kind of questions are asked?"

"Oh, all kinds of stuff," Laura said, shrugging. "Why do Muggles use electricity, what is their substitute for a quill, blah, blah… I wondered why Eleanor chose it end last year; she's Muggleborn herself!"

My heart had lifted at the mention of electricity. Dad liked to tinker with computers at home and often let me look over his shoulder – that subject would be easy. But as we stepped over the threshold and walked through a long corridor, I wondered one little thing, eyeing the candles on the walls.

"Why don't they use electricity here?"

"It doesn't work," Laura replied simply. "There's too much magic in the atmosphere. Electronic devices go absolutely nuts. My mother's a Muggle, and she didn't understand why I couldn't bring my brand new CD player." She sniggered. "She wondered how I was going to develop my taste in music."

"How do you listen to music, then?"

"Nina has a little radio that plays any song you like, you just have to tell it. And we can listen to the Wizarding Wireless on it, too."

We had reached the common room entrance, and as soon as Laura uttered the password we climbed in and went to sit by the fireplace. I curled into a little ball in the big and lumpy chair I was sitting in, enjoying the warmth of the fire.

Later that afternoon Emma and Nina joined us. The latter challenged me to a game of chess. I was a terrible chess player, but I accepted anyway. Nina led me over to the other side of the common room, where a chessboard was located.

"You can play with the white pieces," Nina said, sinking into the chair behind the black chess pieces. For some reason, I had expected the little figures on the board to be yellow and black just like everything around here, and the thought made the corners of my mouth quirk a bit.

"What are you laughing about?" Nina asked. "Never mind – make your move."

I stretched out my hand and moved one of the pawns forward. I heard Nina chuckle and I quickly searched the board. I had just made the first move – had I already done something wrong?

"Pawn to E5."

My eyes widened as one of Nina's pawns – the one she ordered – moved towards my own pawn, hit it on the head, and dragged it off the board before resuming its place. I slowly raised my head to lock gazes with Nina. She smiled.

"Are your Muggle instincts coming up again, Eleanor? You can order the pieces, remember?"

"I –" Goodness, it seemed like everything was magic in here. "I forgot."

Nina was still smiling. "It's your move."

I lost spectacularly, not being able to get used to talking to the chess pieces. I sometimes accidentally addressed the wrong piece, or ordered one to do a move it couldn't, like telling one of my knights to move diagonally. That would cause it to turn around and yell at me, confusing me even more. In about twenty minutes, I had been checkmated.

"Oh, stop laughing," I said to Nina, who was laughing so hard she had slipped half out of her chair. "People are staring."

Indeed, several people in the room had turned their heads to see where all the laughter was coming from. A tall boy behind me good-naturally patted my shoulder as the chess pieces re-aligned themselves.

"No worries, you'll beat her next time. That's what I always tell myself."

"Yeah, and you still haven't won in six years," one of his friends snickered.

I held my tongue – those older boys were rather intimidating to a thirteen-year-old. Or maybe it was just me. I stood up and took after Nina, Emma and Laura, who had gone to the dormitory. I was hopeful to get some sleep this time and not to have strange dreams about my two worlds clashing.

The next morning I was having much trouble getting my robes on, even though it would be the third day I would be wearing them. They weren't that comfortable either, and I still felt like I was getting dressed up for a school play. Laura helped me put them right before we strolled up to breakfast.

When in the Great Hall I could barely eat, my mind only on the lessons. Why hadn't I asked Laura about this earlier so I could have prepared? My hand awkwardly grabbed my wand as we headed for our first lesson, Charms. The wood was smooth under my fingers, but the thought of having a magic object in my pocket was so foreign I couldn't really feel it.

As we entered the classroom and took our seats – Laura motioned for me to sit next to her – I thought at first there was no teacher yet. However, everyone obediently turned their attention to the front of the classroom, where to my surprise a very small man was climbing onto a stack of books.

"That's Professor Flitwick over there," Laura whispered into my ear. Yet, despite her quietness, the blond boy in front of us heard and turned around.

"Honestly Laura, he's been teaching us for more than two years now, we know who he is."

"Oh, shut up, Kevin," Laura snapped, swatting at him.

A squeaky little voice made way to my ears. "If Mr Whitby would like to tear his attention away from Miss Madley –" a few students laughed "– we will start today's lesson." Professor Flitwick coughed and then continued in that squeaky voice of his. "It will be a practical lesson, so please take your wands out. Turn your book to page sixty-six and after reading the tips about colouring inanimate objects, you may begin practicing." He swung around with his own wand and suddenly a little wooden block appeared on each desk.

After rummaging through my book bag and finally finding the appropriate text, I tried to decipher what exactly they meant by 'focusing your mind on change, much like when managing Cooking Charms". Having never had Cooking Charms, I had no idea what to do.

"Just focus," Laura muttered, frowning deeply while staring at her own wooden block. "You want it to change colour – pink, let's take pink. Focus on pink – you need to _see_ your block turning pink. Got it? All right – _Fuco_."

I had been concentrating so hard I had squeezed my eyes shut, but when I had mumbled the spell like Laura had told me to I expectantly opened them.

Sadly, my block was the same colour it had been before – light brown. It only made me feel slightly better to see Laura didn't manage anything either. I didn't want to admit it, but I had sort of hoped I had become a very powerful witch when entering this body.

After about fifteen minutes, I heard a loud shout of joy in front of us. Swiftly looking over, I noticed that the block of the boy named Kevin had changed to black. The little Professor hurriedly came scuttling over.

"Very good, Mr Whitby! Was black the colour you were aiming for?"

"Well," the boy said indulgently, "I was actually going for dark blue, but I'm glad it changed colour anyway."

The Professor smiled widely and advised Kevin to jab more than flick with his wand. I nervously tried jabbing at my own little block when Flitwick came over, but the stupid thing just wouldn't budge. I became even more frustrated when I saw Laura's was a very pale pink.

"Very good, Miss Madley, very good," he told Laura, who flushed with pride. "A little more concentration and you will be fine."

When he looked at my own attempts, I panicked even more and jabbed the block so sharply it fell off the table. My face burning, I retrieved it. There was a small dent on the spot where my wand had poked it. On my second try, my wand only emitted sparks, like the first time I had grabbed it from Eleanor's nightstand.

Professor Flitwick reached up to pat my shoulder like one of the older Hufflepuffs had done the previous evening. "Go on, Miss Branstone, go on. Don't try to force it – the magic will flow out if you let it." With a wide grin, he moved onward to the next student.

_I'm not Miss Branstone!_ I wanted to scream, but kept silent through the whole period, feeling the tears burn behind my eyes. I would not cry in front of the whole class. I would not show I was upset, even though I was.

As soon as I heard the bell I chucked my book into my bag, hiding my face and tears behind a sheet of dark hair. I had to wipe my sleeve across my eyes before following my classmates out, but kept looking at the ground. I felt dumb. I couldn't do magic. I could let my wand spew sparkles, wow. How utterly amazing. Maybe Eleanor was normally very good in Charms and I had everyone wondering what was wrong. Poor Eleanor, I was letting her school results go to the dogs.

With my shoulders slumped I walked behind my classmates to Defence against the Dark Arts. I was apparently sitting next to Emma in that class as she practically pulled me into the chair next to her.

"What's wrong?" she asked anxiously when she saw my face. "El, what happened?"

"Nothing," I mumbled, taking out the next book and placing it on my desk. "I just – I didn't – my spell went a bit wrong."

Emma bit her lip and rubbed my back a bit, but before I could relax entirely she pulled her hand away as fast as lightning and turn to face the front of the class. Finding myself bewildered yet again, I looked up to see an adult standing in front of the students. He had greasy black hair and a big hooked nose and he was sneering disdainfully at us. I felt myself shrinking back into my chair under his gaze.

He lazily swished his wand through the air and suddenly the air was full of parchment. Several pieces whipped across my right ear. It all fell neatly onto his desk. He put his wand back in his pocket and fixed each of the students with an unpleasant stare before talking. During the whole process, not one of the students had said a word. I uneasily shifted in my chair when he looked me in the eye.

"Books out on page one hundred eighty-four," he said softly. I felt a horrid shiver go up my spine as he spoke. God, this man was creepy. I tried to be completely silent while I leafed through the pages of my book, looking for the correct one. Even Emma was sitting perfectly still next to me, almost like a statue. I didn't know Emma terribly well as I had only known her for the weekend, but I did know she was not quiet. My hands trembled slightly as the man opened his mouth to speak again.

"Our subject of this week will be… _ah_, miss Madley, why don't you read the page out loud for us?" His upper lip curled as Laura began to read, her voice quivering.

I could feel my heart beating in all sorts of unnatural places. This man was scary – he wasn't supposed to teach. How were we supposed to learn anything if he liked frightening us to death all the time? From what I could see as I looked around, Laura's voice wavering through the classroom in perhaps a higher tone than normal, I could only see terrified faces, staring at their books as if they didn't dare miss a word.

"Miss Branstone apparently thinks she is above such trivial things as _paying attention_."

My head whirled around to become face-to-face with the teacher, who had walked towards my desk when I had been turned around, observing my classmates. He slammed his hand on my book, making me jump a little in my seat.

"Perhaps you would prefer learning this information by writing a fifty inch essay on it? Or maybe you would rather have me teach it to you in detention, this evening at five?" His dark eyes glittered maliciously as he said that, his greasy hair falling limply down his face.

"No sir," I whispered, clenching my hands in my lap. _You're ugly_, I thought when he stood up, glaring at me down his big hooked nose. _You're ugly and you're horrible to your students_.

"Be careful, Miss Branstone," he spoke up again. "Your thoughts aren't as private as you might think they are." I cringed, not daring to look up and see those eyes again. They reminded me of dark and long tunnels with no end. What did he mean with 'your thoughts aren't as private as you think they are'? Could he read my mind? The thought was unsettling.

I suddenly saw a pale hand with long fingers reach out for my book and turn it to the right page with a swish.

"Read. Line nineteen." When I didn't reply, out of fear that I would burst into tears, he added: "It appears that Miss Branstone is so disabled she has entirely lost her ability to read."

I bit down hard onto my lip. I wouldn't let him get to me. But the first tear was already making its way down my cheek and soon more followed. I quickly brought my hand up to wipe them away, but the teacher had already seen them.

"Mr Whitby, then," he said in a bored voice. "I expect you _are_ capable of comprehending the text that has been written?"

At the end of the class I put my book back into my bag and stormed out, hiding my face from the teacher by letting a curtain of my hair shield it off. I wanted to get away, away from all this madness and all this magic. I ran downstairs, very nearly tripping over my own feet, all the way to the common room, barely remembering the password. I descended the ladder and made my way to the dormitory, hot tears still spilling down my cheeks.

Before I could reach the dormitory, however, I slammed right into someone else who was in a hurry. I cried out as I landed on top of my book bag and the sharp edge of a book was pushed against my thigh.

"Oh, I'm so sorry – did I hurt you?"

I sniffled and picked up my bag, keeping my gaze down. "No, I'm all right, I'm really, really all right, everything's fine."

The girl I had bumped into grabbed my shoulder while I kept babbling on. "No, you aren't. You're in third year, aren't you? I'm Susan, Susan Bones. I'm a prefect in this House. If anything is wrong with you, I can help you."

"My stomach hurts," I lied quickly, as I usually said when I was upset. "I was in class and it just kept getting worse and –" The image of the greasy-haired man sprung in my mind's eye again and I had to wipe some tears from my face. Susan patted me on my shoulder.

"I'll take you to the hospital wing, all right?"

I nodded and let her take me by the hand. I was led upstairs again, we were walking though some doors, stumbling up another flight of stairs, and finally we entered a room with a lot of beds and curtains. A woman with greying hair came bustling towards me and asked Susan what was wrong, as I was still sniffling a little. I heard Susan answering in a low whisper and the nurse reply with an "Ah".

"Goodbye," Susan said, kindly putting her hand on my shoulder again. "I'll see you around."

With much effort, I managed to lift my head and offered her a smile. I was suddenly incredibly tired. Those beds looked rather inviting. Susan smiled back and walked out.

"Lie down, lie down," the nurse said, leading me over to an unoccupied bed. "Girls your age get stomach aches all the time, it's perfectly normal. Do you feel tired too?" When I nodded again, she bobbed her head up and down as well, briskly taking a vial out of her pocket. "Drink this and have a rest. When you wake up, you can join your friends just in time for dinner."

_Laura_, I thought. She didn't know where I was. Maybe she was just glad I was off her hands for a while. She was probably having fun with the rest of them, without having to worry over me doing something stupid.

_Don't think like that_, I told myself. _She's probably worried sick_. "Madam?" I called out softly, not knowing what her name was. The nurse, who had been fiddling with some bottles on a shelf, hurried towards me again.

"Go on, drink up. It'll help you."

"Yes, but Madam, would you like to tell my classmates I'm here? They don't know."

"Hm," she said, looking on the clock above the door that said eleven. "I'll make sure they know, Miss Branstone. Now drink that potion and get some sleep."

I obeyed, drinking it all in one gulp. Slumping back into the cushions after putting the vial on my bedside table, I was finally able to relax. I heaved a deep sigh and turned over. Sleep settled on me like a warm blanket, washing all my worries away – if only for a moment.

---

**Author's Notes:** Yes, I know Hannah Abbott was Hufflepuff prefect, but as her mother got killed and she left Hogwarts, I think they had to appoint a new female prefect, and that's Susan. Also… Snape's character… so hard… to nail… Please tell me I haven't totally raped his character. And before you go on again – please review. Thanks.


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